


Sick as a Dog

by tea_petty



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, doting, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 15:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18237053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Sole falls ill, and Mason refuses to be kept away.





	Sick as a Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-petty

Mason’s eyes narrowed as he rounded the corner to the Fizztop Grille, and saw the faded, blue double doors to the summit firmly shut, with none other than Gage standing guard.  Mason lost count of how many red flags this was now; it had been days since anyone had seen the Overboss, and the gangs were getting restless. Somehow, the same orders coming from Gage, felt less pertinent to them.  After several cancelled meetings with the leaders of the gangs, and a few missed, late-night rendezvous’ where he was concerned, Mason figured something was up, and he’d be damned if he didn’t figure it out.

  “Hey Gage,” Mason called out, his voice as taut as the tendons in his neck.

If Sole really was behind those doors, he’d have to play things a bit more docile than what he was used to.  His fingers twitched under the strain; wolves weren’t meant to be collared.  Gage barely acknowledged the Pack leader, his eyes glinting warningly in the shadow dampened corner.

“Mason.  Something you need?”

“Nothing you can give me,” Mason peered around Gage to the closed doors, “the boss here?”

Gage took a step forward.  Had they’d been anywhere else, Mason would’ve taken this as a declaration of war, would’ve put his fist straight through Gage’s face, maybe even taken his good eye as a trophy.  

“She’s…indisposed at the moment.”

Raucous coughing sounded through the worn wood, followed by the sliding footfalls of trudging footsteps.

“Gage?” 

Raspy and weak, the voice was still unmistakably Sole’s.

“Gage, what’s wrong?  Who is it?” More coughing caught the tail end of ‘it’.

“Sole!” Mason called back, moving to barge through the doors, only to have Gage intercept him.

“Porter,” the formidable redhead hissed, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me through.”

“Step  _back_ , Mason.”

The heat of simmering silence from beyond the doors agitated Mason.  Nonetheless, he stepped back.  Gage visibly relaxed, and that was all he had time to do, before Mason, ducked past him, quick as a whip, bursting through the doors.  The thin walls shook as the doors hit them and Sole looked bewildered to see Mason standing before her.  The ‘deer in headlights’ look was fleeting, before she retreated behind a guarded expression.  Mason knew it well, it’s how she looked at the  _other_  raiders, not him.  Sole tugged her flimsy robe tighter around her, her cheeks red.  Mason studied her; this red was different than the kind he brought about when they kissed - when they touched.  This red was sickly, and delirious; Sole’s eyes seemed to swim, and her smaller frame was huddled in on itself.  Relief flooded through the Alpha; she wasn’t avoiding him, she was just sick. His mouth quirked upwards into a smirk.

“And just what the  _fuck_  do you think you’re smirking at?” Sole glared at him, her voice a hoarse croak.

Definitely sick.  

Mason grinned, “One sick puppy, is what’d I’d guess.”

Sole scowled at him, and Mason bit back a laugh; he had no doubt that even in this state, she’d prove to be quite…difficult.

“Oh c’mon, don’t look like that, puppies are cute.”

The red hue to Sole’s face intensified.  There it was, Mason realized with tingling satisfaction;  _his_  red.

“Go home Mason.”

“Nah, I’m fine right where I am.” He crossed his arms.

“Well, I’m not.   _Go home_.” Sole growled.

“You know, I love that sexy, rough thing you’ve got going on with your voice.”

Sole opened her mouth to say something, jabbing her finger in his direction.  Mason knew she was about ready to really let him have it.

“Alright, alright, I’m done teasin’ you. Promise.  Seriously though, I ain’t going anywhere.”

Sole flung her arms exasperatedly, “Why not?  I’m gross and sick, and –“ Sole sighed, a rage burning as hotly as the fever ripping through her, frustrated tears budding at the corners of her eyes – “what are you even doing here anyways?  A quick fuck?  I’m not up for it.  Shop’s closed.”  Sole turned around so that her back was facing him as she padded off towards the bed.

This jab wiped Mason’s smile from his face.  He glanced over to where Gage was standing, still off by the door, pretending not to listen.  Bullshit.  Mason lurched forward to catch Sole’s shoulder, turning her so that she had to meet his heated gaze.

“Is that what you think?” Mason’s voice was low and cold like iron.  “Then you really don’t know me at all.  My –“ Mason lowered his voice with another sharp look in Gage’s direction, “-lady is sick. And she didn’t even think to tell me! So, if anything,  _you_  are not the one who should be  _so royally pissed right now._ ”  

Sole never faltered in her fanged stare, it had lost its venom though.  Mason noticed the tremble to her bottom lip, and the wetness at her eyes now, and his heart crested guiltily.  He takes this as his window of opportunity, and sets in on her, lifting her easily into his arms.  She comes back to life at this small, indignity, writhing and squirming in his grip, and beating her fists ineffectually against his chest.

“Let me down!” she hisses.

Mason’s grin is back, “Nah, I don’t think so  _boss_.”

The word is teasing, her title is a joke, so long as she’s in his arms, where  _he’s_  the Alpha.

“I said –“

Mason beelined for the doors, kicking them shut so he can fully switch to doting boyfriend mode, and do so without Gage’s scrutiny.  Plus, that stupid eyepatch of his gave him the creeps.  Then he turned, and headed to Sole’s bed, where he set her down gently. He’s proud of himself; he can take good care of her.  He glows. 

 Sole scrabbled onto her knees, still glowering at him, and crossed her arms.  She wouldn’t be his, if she wasn’t so damned difficult.  Mason sighed, and gently took her wrists in his hands, he stripped her of her robe, before he easily maneuvered her onto her back, and eased the covers over her.  

“Easy,” he chided.

Sole continued to writhe beneath his grip, but the fire in her belly was just a small spark today.  Mason could just as easily lick his thumb and forefinger and pinch it out.  Her strength bottomed out, and then Mason was effectively pinning her to the bed.  Sole whimpered beneath his grip, and the tears that had collected at her eyes, finally leaked out, creating small wet spots on the comforter.  He recognized the resigned look in her eyes; the sort that came about when your body betrayed your strength of will.  He wasn’t blind to this, but he still couldn’t bring himself to go.  Mason lifted a hand to wipe the tears away.

“Listen,” he said in a voice like a wool blanket, “we take care of our own.  Ya hear? I’m going to take care of you.”

Sole sniffled, but relented, curling into Mason, and clutching him to her.  In a moment of fleeting tenderness, Mason pressed his lips to Sole’s forehead, before gently peeling her from him.  She settles into the plush bedding with little resistance.  Mason headed to the small kitchenette she had installed, to try and whip something up for her.  He was no cook, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that she needed to eat to keep up her strength.  He assembled his concoction clumsily, and with the use of his sharpened instincts, which end up proving quite dull in the kitchen, he wound up with a grey-brown broth, complete with chunks of meat, and vegetables that bobbed as he carried the steaming dish to Sole’s nightstand.  Sole slept as he set the bowl down beside her, but cracked an eye open when he returned with the tins of purified water Gage had stowed away for her, a few days prior. 

 “What,” she breathes, “we’re out of NukaCola?”

Mason snorts, “That crap will kill ya even without the help of your sickness.”

Sole chuckled, and it tapered off into another cough.  Mason watched the jerky motions wrack her, before he sidled into bed with her.  Sole makes a pleased noise as he scootched in, her back at his chest, his arms wrapped around her, as he peeled sweat-slick locks of hair from her forehead.  Mason nuzzled his nose into the crown of her head.  They said nothing, they didn’t need to; there was already an understanding struck between the two of them, one that had existed since they’d come together.  He took care of her, and she was grateful. 


End file.
